Why do we trust so many people? Why do we so care? How many faces of a single soul do we see in in one single year? How much of pain do you supress in your heart? How soon will the Sun set over your eyes? When will the light stop dazzling you? How much of distress when piled in a load is enough to let you have a meltdown? What are you to me that you expect you deserve an explanation to all my decisions? You’re at least a wrongturn in the road of my life Sunken, shrunken and dirty on all sides Atmost you’re my night old muse My next poem is bout how you touched my soul Either way, you’re so shortlived my love I’ll forget you existed by the very next noon Shouting we’re all in the same doomed ship We’re not, we’re alone and waiting singly for our doomsdays Cause despite how far the bird flies from its nest When the Sun goes down, the bird’s only welcome in her nest.
Give me a pen and paper and watch as I paint your world.